: (feat. Shawty Lo of D4L) [Gucci Mane: talking] I got trap money dawg, Real talk, real spit like, I aint even gotta rap. I'm good nigga, I make hits
in a nigga house wit a black tee Gucci Mane, lil flair got a million dollar mouthpiece Black Tee, black rag, even got a black mask Leavin out ya house, thirty
34 inch ash ante's on the humphy Whole lotta purp, whole lotta green, Whole hep of white, large amount of beans Got dem collard greens, sell allot of things 4 plus a 4
heard ... .....burn one I heard x 4 That gucci stack tha cheese up you can just re-up gotta whole bunch of keys bout to sack tha weed up I heard x 4 Gucci
lunatic, y'all know what I represent The only rapper that wanna fist-fight the president [Hook:] It takes a nation of niggas to hold us back [x4] [
of this bitch? I be rich if it wasn't for the snitch Lyin' to the enemies, wild conspiracies I'm a say this 'till the day that I die Seven thirty fives
) *1 and *2, *3 and *4 simultaneously] [*1] "Bow-wow-wow-yippie-yo-yippie-yay" [*2] "Dog-catcher, dog-catcher!" [*3] "Bow-wow-yippie-yo-yippie-yay" [*4
t see it like Stevie Wonder All I know is when it rains it thunders My baby momma took me under Fuck my baby momma, and my thirty kids Don?t tell me bout
block (run) Pull up in a drop (pull up) Push up on my money (push up) I'm in great shape dunny I keep jacks jumping thirty six sets Like a personal trainer
couldn't cop the drop) Would ya hate me? (If we couldn't drop the top) I know ya love me (Cuz you know we pop 4 Roc) I know ya hate me (Cuz you know we
want 12 disc changers 11 filly blunts 10 carot gold 9 sega tapes 8 gold teeth 7 pairs of jeans 6 pints of beer 5 fresh gold chainnnnnnns 4 thirty smokers
hard, watch the hard turn sideways Pick the tale for real sales to those who lose cash Players keep your life for now Feelin good and warm, windows rolled tight Thirty
my gold teeth, when a nigga get through cooking up, this O-Z, all night on the block til the sun rise, my only friend is a glock with the 4-5 Four
really hilarious But ain't shit funny when your dick's in the dust and the ambulance come [Break] [Verse 4 - Obie Trice] The bullet strikes your dome For thirty
C., Motown to Alabama L-A, New York Yankee niggaz to Hotlanta 'ouisiana, all my niggaz with "Country Grammar" Smokin blunts in Savannah Blow thirty mill' like I'm Hammer [Chorus] [Verse 4
hate me now.. [Puff] I like this.. I like the way this feels [Verse 3] It's a thin line between paper and hate friends and snakes, nine millis and thirty
: Fake thug, no love, you get the slug, CB4 Gusto Your luck low, I didn't know til I was drunk though You freak niggaz played out, get fucked and ate
[Verse 1: Redhead Kingpin] It's Kingpin plus two I'm on the guestlist fam But if this dude ain't like thirty he don't know who I am Boo boo my name,